By The Book
by Josephine Stone
Summary: Just a short story about Harry's new favourite book and him falling, literally, for Malfoy.
**Beta:** digthewriter
 **Title Inventor:** mab  
 **Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ginny/Blaise  
 **Written For:** hd_writers Assignment #7 for Ravenclaw (the prompts are bolded)  
 **Notes:** There are a few spoilers in here for the novel _At Swim, Two Boys_ by Jamie O'Neil. Though I don't really look at them as _spoilers_ ; more like enticements to get you to read the book and squee with me. Oh, and this ended up getting a _little_ dirty; that was not my intention when I started writing this, but the boys refused to keep their clothes on.

* * *

 **Homework**

Harry finished his **homework** three days into his stay at the Burrow. Ron was still behind, but they had both been determined to finish it _before_ Hermione arrived the following Friday. He'd feel like a traitor if he left Ron to go play Quidditch with Ginny and the twins, so he settled on top of his bed and opened a book. Though Ron wasn't nosey, he'd notice Harry reading a book that wasn't about Quidditch, and then Harry'd have to answer uncomfortable questions he hadn't thought up lies to.

Why was he reading a novel?

After everything that had happened, why would he want to read about war?

It wasn't obvious that the book had detailed sex scenes featuring a couple of blokes, but if Ron looked over his shoulder at the wrong time—or picked it up and read the dog-eared pages—there would be no hiding it from him.

 _At Swim, Two Boys_ was mostly about relationships, politics, and war—but it was also the dirtiest book Harry had ever read; which was why it was also the only novel he'd re-read repeatedly.

 **Quill**

Ron's **quill** broke and he swore, throwing it across the room, which caused Harry to jump and almost made his book fall out of the Quidditch magazine he was pretending to read. He grabbed one of his own **quills** and flung it at his distraught friend.

'Thanks, mate.' Ron's eyes lingered at the odd way Harry held the magazine, and Harry's heart hammered in his chest as he waited for Ron to ask about it. 'I'm hungry; let's go see if mum's got anything good in the kitchen.'

'Your mum always has something good in the kitchen.'

When Ron turned his back toward Harry to put his school things away, Harry marked his place and hid his book under the pillow behind him, then discarded the magazine on the bed and jumped up to join Ron in his quest for food.

 **Dumbledore's Speech**

'I love Hogwarts' food, but I always miss these biscuits.'

Harry understood what he meant; they reminded him of home even if they were a bit dry and sometimes burnt around the edges. It wasn't the biscuits, but the memories they were apart of. This made Ron launch into a monologue of the food he was excited about eating at Hogwarts. Except for the first one, Harry couldn't remember a welcome feast that went by peacefully. He wondered what **Dumbledore** would drop on them this year during his **speech**.

Would _please stay out of the Forbidden Forest_ be followed or preceded by new never-thought-of-before-places they shouldn't explore—which they would anyway—new guests that were far more than they seemed or another **Defense Against the Dark Arts professor** who'd try to kill Harry before the year ended. Harry decided it was probably the last one, then wondered why it was still his favourite subject.

 **New DADA Teacher**

Though Lupin was still his favourite teacher to date, and perhaps Dumbledore would get them someone interesting for their **DADA professor** , Harry had to admit to himself they were all _interesting_. Even if that was more a fault than a perk with most of them.

Ron gave Harry that look which Harry learned meant he was worried about Harry being lost in his thoughts, so Harry said, 'I just hope we get a good **Defenses Against The Dark Arts teacher** this year.' This seemed to calm Ron as his eyes lit up with an idea and asked, 'D'you think we'll keep the DA going this year?'

'Depends on the teacher, I suppose.'

'It'd be fun either way; we could do our school work together in the room.'

Which reminded Ron he had school work upstairs and he had to get back to it.

 **Books**

Ron still had work to do by the time Hermione arrived, but with her help, he had completed it by the time they boarded The Hogwarts Express. It was the first time ever Harry brought **books** with him on the train. He took his DADA book with him as he felt it would be the least likely to inspire questions. Mid-way in the journey, Ron fell asleep and Hermione was involved in her own reading, so he switched back to his novel.

He'd been anticipating the next scenes for days; Doyler was to spend the night—and share a bed—with Jim! Harry was a little excited.

 **First Class**

Somehow fate both loved and hated Harry at the same time; Professor Snape was the new DADA teacher, which meant—of course— _that_ was his **first class** on Monday mornings. Oh, how could he ever _not_ leap with joy?

'Look on the bright side, Harry.' Hermione his ever faithful supporter patted his arm and gave him a weak smile when they found out during the Welcome Feast. 'You might pass potions and then you can become an Auror.'

So, of course, Snape started with a duel and of course he had to duel Malfoy, and of course it was Malfoy's fault that Harry ended up on top of him, but it wasn't either of their faults that Harry had an erection at the time. They should have dueled much farther away from Seamus, as Harry knew what his accent would do to him if he heard it too much.

The sound of Seamus joking with Dean behind Harry—the way Harry envisioned Doyler must sound like when he spoke—mixed with facing Malfoy—who looked much the way Harry imagined Jim would—made any type of coherent thought impossible on his part. That he imagined that Doyler looked much like himself didn't help the situation _at all_.

 **Potion Partners**

Slughorn didn't know any better. Slughorn didn't know any better. Slughorn didn't know any better.

If Harry kept repeating it to himself, he was sure to believe it by suppertime. Malfoy and Harry had pretended the other didn't exist since the incident in DADA. They couldn't work together when they hated each other, how were they supposed to work together as **potion partners** after what happened?

Malfoy was teasing him about it or perhaps he wasn't; Harry couldn't tell. Malfoy hadn't said anything about it at all and just like Harry avoided all eye contact, but he kept _touching_ Harry. At first, Harry brushed it off as an accident, but by the third time Harry knew it was on purpose. He'd reach for ingredients _he didn't even need_ to let his hand brush against Harry's.

Harry pretended he hadn't noticed; he never moved his hand away even when Malfoy grabbed it underneath the table.

 **First Years**

In the hall, he lost Ron and Hermione by shooting off in the opposite direction and ran into Malfoy in boys' bathroom. Harry didn't ask himself why that was so easy for them to plan without asking. Once they were alone they fell back into an awkward not looking at each other uncomfortable silence, where neither of them knew how to proceed and ended up acting like a couple of **first years** snipping at each other.

Since their fights were always so similar, Harry paid little attention what either of them were saying. Evidently, Malfoy was listening closer to their conversation than Harry because he said, 'That didn't even make any sense.' Harry couldn't argue back so he grabbed him and kissed him instead.

It wasn't forceful or angry like Harry planned it to be; it was more like how he daydreamed Doyler would kiss Jim.

 **Late For Class**

Harry met up with Draco randomly. Nothing was ever planned, but they always found each other. Harry had a slight advantage with the map. They were snogging in an alcove that Draco pulled Harry into as he was walking by when they realised they were **late for class**. Their next class was together. They thought nothing of entering together until the entire class turned to see them whispering to each other and disheveled from kissing.

The oddest thing was that Ron and Hermione said nothing about it; they didn't even give him one of their many odd looks.

The best thing about it was that it was History of Magic, so the professor didn't even notice them and they weren't issued a detention.

The worst thing was that he couldn't take any lecture notes, because of all the notes being passed to him.

 **Passing Notes**

Half an hour later, Harry was still **passing notes** to Ron and Draco, who sent flying cranes at him every chance he got. They were quite a bit more pleasant than the ones he received from Draco in previous years, but by the time class ended they were boarding on dirty and Ron kept trying to peek at them.

Ron's notes were short and oddly supportive bits of: how long have you been dating, you're my mate no matter what and—the strangest one—do you think he could get Ginny a date with Blaise?

The last "note" using the term very loosely, proved how much Draco's drawing abilities had improved over the years. It was of Harry—well disjointed parts of Harry: his eyes, his lips, his hips with his trousers opened and almost revealing too much. Draco wasn't the type to go slow.

Harry wasn't sure what type he was.

 **First Night Back**

Harry opened his book and went through the pages he marked his **first night back** at Hogwarts and was engrossed in the story when Draco climbed into his bed.

'How did you get here?'

Draco shrugged like it was no feat at all, and said, 'Weasley helped me.'

'Ron?'

'No, the girl Weasley; all I had to do was introduce her to Blaise. Apparently, she's fancied him for ages. It worked to my advantage, though, because Blaise thought I was doing _him_ the favour and gave me one of the bottles of wine he had stashed.'

 **New Surprise**

Draco transfigured a couple of quills into glasses and poured wine for them both, then saw Harry's book laying opened on his lap. 'What are you reading?'

There was no reason to blush, but Harry couldn't help it.

'I have this; it's one of my favourites.'

Harry perked up at this **new surprise**.

'Don't look so shocked. I'm sure it isn't news to you anymore that I've harboured _feelings_ for you.' Draco straddled Harry's lap, closed the book and sent it to Harry's nightstand 'Do you want to be my black-haired boy?'

'Doyler's mother called him that,' Harry said with a grimace, then bit his lip unsure if he should say what he was about too. 'But you can be "the pal o'me heart" if you want.'

 **House Ghosts**

It was Draco's idea that they role play out all their favourite scenes from the book. Though Draco also liked to make up a few of his own. Harry didn't remember Jim ever riding Doyler fast and hard, but he wasn't complaining. Draco got a kick out of doing the night Doyler slept at Jim's over and over again, but Harry was fairly sure it was because he liked Harry naked and not that he enjoyed teasing him relentlessly.

They couldn't make the scenes perfect, even with magic.

They had no island, and **house ghosts** never popped up to watch the boys in the book.

They did have a war, politics and a relationship; they made their own favourite scenes together, and they were better because they were _real_.


End file.
